


First Snow

by Dragonsmaidan



Series: Ineffable Holiday Prompts [1]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-07
Updated: 2019-12-07
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:29:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21700042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dragonsmaidan/pseuds/Dragonsmaidan
Summary: It's the first snow of the season and Aziraphale promised.  Sometimes he wishes he could say no to his demon.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Ineffable Holiday Prompts [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1564165
Comments: 11
Kudos: 39
Collections: An Ineffable Holiday 2019





	First Snow

“Angel! Angel!” The door to Aziraphale’s bookshop flew open. 

Aziraphale rushed from the back room, “My dear, are you alright? What’s wrong?”

Crowley, demon, formerly of Hell, stood framed against the grey London sky looking utterly joyful. 

“Angel!” Crowley exclaimed again. “It’s snowing.”

Aziraphale stopped short and took a good look at his bookshop intruder. There were large flakes of snow in Crowley’s hair and on his fine designer black pea coat and sweater. His snake eyes were bright behind his dark glasses. 

“Angel, you promised.” Crowley’s voice had a slight whine to it. “First snow of the season. That’s what you said.”

“Did I?” Aziraphale met Crowley’s eyes briefly then looked away and started fussing with a book on a nearby shelf. 

They stood there for a few moments. Crowley’s smile fell slightly. Aziraphale looked at him and let out a long, drawn out sigh. “Fine, fine, all right.”

Crowley’s face lit back up. 

“Yes, but we have to make sure it sticks. You can’t do it with only a dusting. And close the door, dear, you are letting in the cold.”

Crowley pushed the door shut and moved towards Aziraphale and the back room. “You could make it stick.”

“I’m an angel, Crowley, not a weather fairy.”

Crowley made a face at the mental image. “You could still do it though,” he paused. “It would make all the children happy.” He pulled his glasses off and tossed them on a nearby table as he flopped on the sofa. “It would make me happy.” 

Aziraphale rolled his eyes, but failed to suppress his smile. “Would it?”

“Very.”

Aziraphale opened a closet that hadn’t been there a few seconds before and started pulling out winter clothing. 

Crowley looked out one of the high windows as the snow started falling harder and faster. 

“Do you need anymore layers, dear?” Aziraphale asked pulling a heavy coat over three thick sweaters. “I know you tend to catch a chill.”

“Nah, I’m good.” Crowley got up as he felt the blush crawl towards his cheeks at Aziraphale’s concern. “So, St. James’ park?”

“I think so. Best place for it. I still can’t believe I let you talk me into this.” Aziraphale pulled on gloves and boots. 

“I didn’t,” Crowley protested. “You offered. I just told you I’d never done it before. Never seem okay before.”

Aziraphale made a vague noncommittal noise as they stepped outside and locked shop behind them. 

—-

The walk to the park was peaceful, despite the short time since the snow had started falling, all of London was now painted in picturesque shades white and grey. 

Aziraphale wandered towards the duck pond out of habit, then moved to the empty grass patch behind their bench, surveying to make sure the snow was just so. 

Crowley moved to stand beside him. “This is it then,” he suddenly looked apprehensive. 

“Are you backing out, my dear?” There was a slight challenge in his tone. 

“No,” Crowley bit his lip. “You sure it’s safe- for me to-“ he gestured to the empty space. 

Aziraphale let his fingers graze Crowley’s cheek before grasping his hand. “It’s just snow.”

“You know what I mean.”

Aziraphale gave his hand a squeeze then moved a few paces back still facing Crowley. “Yes, now watch carefully. There is an art to this.” He spread his arms out wide and fell backwards. 

Crowley watched, leaning against the bench, as Aziraphale moved his arms up and down. 

“The tricky bit,” Aziraphale said, “Is to get up without mucking the whole thing up.” He held his hands up and Crowley carefully walked over and hauled him up, pulling with a little too much force so Aziraphale stumbled and fell slightly into Crowley’s chest. 

Aziraphale steadied himself, cheeks flushed with the cold, backside completely white. “Your turn.”

“Okay.” Crowley positioned himself so his print would be next to Aziraphale’s and threw his arms wide as he fell. He let out a muffled cry at the shock of cold that struck his back, but moved his arms up and down mimicking Aziraphale. “How do I know when I’m done?”

“Looks done to me.” Aziraphale reached down to help him up. Crowley carefully stepped away from the imprint in the snow. 

“How did I do?”

Aziraphale glanced over at the impression next to his and took both Crowley’s hands in his own and leaned into Crowley who brought their foreheads together. 

“It’s the perfect angel.”

**Author's Note:**

> Day 1 and 29 of the ineffable holiday on tumblr


End file.
